“And suppose some night prowler had struck you to the ground, to teach you not to walk about alone at night in these parts?”
Elias raised the butt-end of a revolver from his pocket, and said—
“I should have been able to speak to him in his own language.”
“I see; then you never travel without an interpreter?”
“I cannot let myself be murdered for a paltry twenty francs; it would be altogether too stupid!”
The conversation was interrupted by an exclamation from Cesare, who, in a passion, threw the cards down on to the table. Hans laughed to himself, and made a rapid calculation on a piece of paper.
“That makes thirty-five louis for you to pay. You have lost fourteen hundred points!”
“It is enough to make one believe in the Evil Eye!” growled the handsome Italian. “Ever since this Marcel Baradier cast his eyes on me, I cannot touch a single card without losing, at no matter what game!”
Glancing angrily in the direction of Sophia, he said—